Until it's gone
by StarsInTheRiver
Summary: You never realize what you have until you see how easily it could be taken from you. When a simple burglary turns out to be much more, will Shawn be able to find a way to save himself and the one he loves? Shules. Set somewhere late season five. Jules whump.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! so, this is my first story that I have published, so any and all reviews and suggestions are welcome. Thanks, and enjoy!

Ch.1

"Alright. Hurry up." Junior detective Juliet O'Hara snapped her cell phone shut and glanced up at the man standing next to her. "Backup is on the way, Shawn. They'll be here soon."

"C'mon, Jules! Do we have to wait? Backup will take too long; our guy could be long gone by then! We gotta act now!" Shawn whined at his companion. "Lets jump in, grab the bad guy, and have him all ready when Lassie gets here! Don't tell me you don't want to see the look on his face when you prove that we don't need him as desperately as he thinks." Seeing the doubtful expression on her face, he added, "The guy isn't that dangerous, anyways. Its not like he's a murderer or anything, just a little thief. Nothing we can't handle." He flexed his arm dramatically to prove his point.

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to check out the situation first…" she allowed. "And if we happen to see the robber, then I suppose we could probably grab him without too much trouble."

Shawn's face split into a wide grin, and he immediately bounced over to the door of the old car shop. Juliet followed him, smiling at his energy.

The pair crept into the dim space, Juliet's gun drawn and ready and Shawn clutching a large stick.

"Put that down" she hissed. "You look ridiculous."

"Jules, for you your information, the stick has been the weapon of choice for thousands of highly skilled warrior since the beginning of civilization." Behind him, he heard a small squeak and a click. "Jules?" Shawn turned, and his heart nearly stopped. The man they had been chasing was standing there, his muscular arm wrapped around Juliet and over her mouth. His other hand gripped her gun, the muzzle pressed to her head and his finger on the trigger.

"Alright, boy. Do as I tell you, and I wont have to hurt her." His voice was deep and scratchy, and it snapped Shawn out of his shocked state. He immediately glanced over the man, reading as much as could as quickly as possible. His clothes were dingy, so he had been on the run, and most likely had just gotten back to his headquarters here. His eyes here wide and wild. He was desperate, and there was no doubt that if he had to he would shoot the blonde detective. But before he could get anything else, the thief began ordering him around.

"Drop your… weapon, and get on your knees, head down, hands up. NOW!" Shawn obeyed after a moment, with one last glance at Juliet's wide eyes.

"Alright, if you say so." His mouth, like always, seemed to start talking of its own accord. "But are you really sure you want to so this? The police are on their way, and murder does have much higher consequences than armed robbery." At the word 'murder', Juliet tensed up, resulting in a bit of pressure on her head with the gun.

"Who said anything about murder? I was thinking more along the lines of a hostage situation." And with that, he shoved Jules to the concrete and deftly pulled her hands behind her back, while transferring the tip of the gun to the small of her back. "Come here, you. And don't think about trying anything, or I'll shoot your pretty friend. The psychic slowly stood and walked over to him. "Grab the rag out of my pocket. Slowly." He did so, pulling the slightly damp cloth out of the pocket and holding it out. Releasing her hands for a second, the man grabbed it, reached forward, and pressed it over Juliet's mouth and nose. She went limp within seconds and the man stood up, transferring the target of the gun to Shawn and leaving the cloth on the floor in front of her face. Chloroform, he immediately realized.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"My name is Shawn Spencer, and I am the head psychic for the SBPD. That lovely lady right there is Detective O'Hara, also of the SBPD."

"O.K then psychic. You are going to do exactly as you're told, or else you are going to dramatically decrease your chances of getting out of this in one piece, clear?"

"As crystal!" he chirped back.

"Get me that chair." He gestured to a folding chair propped up a few feet away. "And shut up." He added as Shawn opened his mouth to make a smart remark. Shawn opened the chair next to the unconscious Juliet and looked expectantly up at the man.

"Put her in it, now. Then get back on your knees with your hands behind your head." Slightly surprised, the psychic leaned over and gently scooped up Juliet, placing her in the chair and carefully pushing a stray lock of hair away form her face. He then resumed his position on the floor several feet away, closely watching the man holding the gun. Without taking his eyes off Shawn, he walked over to the chair while pulling a length of rope from his coat pocket, and with one hand bound her small wrists together. He knew what he was doing, because those knots looked well made. Shawn began to wonder if theft was really all this man was involved in. The rest of the rope was wrapped around her stomach and pulled tight, the end tied to her wrists. If she struggled, the rope would tighten.

Juliet was starting to wake up, now that she was away from the rag. She groaned as her head spun and a migraine settled in behind her eyes. Her slow awakening was suddenly skipped over, and she was jolted to relative alertness by the feeling of a gun being pushed into her neck. Besides the gun, she immediately noticed that her arms were bound, and that she had been tied to a chair.

"What the hell…" she murmured before she was cut off by a harsh voice.

"Hello, Detective. Listen up. You and your friend here are in some serious danger, and the only way you are going to survive the next few minutes is if you do exactly what I tell you to. Understand?"

One glance at Shawn, crouched on the floor, told her that they really were in deep. She did the only smart thing to do in that situation, and nodded.

"You are now going to call your backup, and tell them that is was a false alarm and that they can return to the station. If they are not convinced, I'll shoot the psychic. You will then give them a reason that you and Shawn here will not be returning to work today. Ready?"

Juliet's mind was racing frantically for a way out of this, but she was drawing a blank. "O.K." she eventually agreed in a shaky voice.

"Better get yourself under control. Who's coming that I should call?"

"Carlton Lassiter. Its on my contacts." She had absolutely no idea shy she was telling him this, but she thought it might have something to do with the aftereffects of the drug.

"Alright… and ringing." Their captor held the phone to her ear and after a few moments she heard the familiar voice of her partner, the sound of sirens in the background.

"O'Hara?"

Making sure her voice was not shaking, Juliet answered, " Yeah. Sorry, but it was a false alarm. Shawn's trail went cold, and we lost him. We may be able to find him, but there's no point in coming here. Pure chance that we caught up to him at this location. "

"Leave it to Spencer to waste everybody's time." He grumbled. She could hear the faint sounds of him giving orders in the background, shouting and venting his annoyance on the world in general.

"Oh, and Carlton?"

"Yes?"

"I, um... Don't think I'm going to be able to come back to work today. Or Shawn. Could you tell the chief for me? Please?"

"Why?" he asked, suddenly louder. "Are you all right?"

Juliet laughed, almost nervously. "No, we're fine. Its just, he asked me to dinner, and I didn't want to say no… he looked so sad. And a bit scared." She put a slight emphasis on the word _scared_.

"If you're sure that's all it is… then I suppose I'll see you at work tomorrow, O'Hara." He still sounded slightly apprehensive, but he bought it.

"O.K." she whispered as the phone snapped shut.

She looked up to see if she had passed inspection, but the only thing she saw was a clenched fist coming at her fast before the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone! Just a heads up, I have my midterms next week, so I may not be able to update until after then. But I promise I will try to write as much as I can in between studying. But for now, here is the second chapter. And please, review and give suggestions! Every time someone reviews, I spent an extra half hour writing. It really does help!

Ch. 2

Shawn winced, as Juliet was knocked cold.

"Hey, you should be gentle with her. There are consequences for hurting an officer of the law."

The thief's voice was flat as he responded, "I don't think I need to worry about that."

Distracted by the implications, Shawn didn't notice the tall man walking over to him until the butt of the gun was rushing towards him. With a _crack _and a small grunt of pain, he slumped forward, unconscious.

Head detective Carlton Lassiter walked into the Santa Barbara police station, wondering about his partner's odd phone call. He had returned to the station, like she had requested. He believed that she wouldn't have told him to if it were the wrong thing to do. But there had been something about her tone that hadn't seemed quite right. And her excuse for not coming back was downright strange, and not just because it would mean that Spencer had taste.

"Detective? What are you doing here? I thought you had gone to help O'Hara and Spencer." The chief's voice startled him, and he looked up sharply.

"Hmm?" he blinked, bringing himself back to reality. "False alarm. Spencer led us down the wrong trail." He remembered something else he was supposed to tell her, and added, "They have apparently also decided not to come back to the station today. Dinner now rates above work with them."

"Really? But it's only noon. Bit early for dinner…"

Turning around, Lassiter looked at the clock on a co-worker's desk.

He mentally cursed himself for not noticing. "Noon. I would say she was skipping work, but that's something Spencer would do. I'll call her and see what's going on." The chief walked away, and as he dialed, something else his partner had said popped into his head. A word she had stressed, in contrast to her otherwise flat tone…

The ringing stopped almost instantly, going to voicemail. He slowly closed his phone as the word echoed through his thoughts. It struck him as out of place, because it wasn't a word that he would normally associate with the cocky psychic, especially when asking someone to dinner.

_Scared._

Shawn awoke laying on a hard, concrete surface. Above him, a few feet over his face, he saw concrete. He rolled over, and saw that he was in fact in a small room, lined with metal bars. A cell, about six by six feet. Looking closer, he saw a small hatch on the wall and a speaker in the corner. He was just reaching out to poke it, when a familiar voice came from it.

"Hello, Mr. Spencer! Good to see you awake. I trust you slept well?"

Despite being uncomfortable, stiff, and cold, Shawn couldn't hold in a smart remark.

"No, actually. The service here is terrible, and these beds are like rocks."

His captor was unamused, and his attitude changed with an impatient sigh.

"Cut the crap, psychic. I need you to tell me everything you know about that house that was robbed, now. Failing to do so will have consequences."

Raising his eyebrows at the serious tone of voice, Shawn put on his own business voice. "I'm afraid I can't help you there. You see, this is the Detectives' case, and Lassie wouldn't let me in. I'm just the tracker."

A faint laugh came from the speakers. "Thank you, Mr. Spencer. You've told me exactly what I needed to know."

Shawn's eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had just done. "Wait, no. I didn't mean-"

But the _click_ of the speakers cutting of stopped him. Shawn slammed his head against the wall, furious at himself for being such an idiot. He had just told this dangerous man that Juliet had the information he needed, and knowing her she wasn't going to just hand it to him.

Juliet woke up for the third time that day, once again tied to a chair. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as she took in her surroundings. She was definitely not in the repair shop anymore, and the chair was different as well. The concrete walls of the small room were blank, except for wires running along the tops and a mirror on one wall. Several of the wires ran directly to her metal chair, and others to little boxes in the corners that looked like they probably had something else in them. The chair in question was solid black, with a high back and armrests. Pinning her to it were thick leather straps, buckled around her wrists and upper arms, upper chest and waist, knees and ankles. Whoever had put her here had fairly extensive recourses, and meant business.

She turned her attention towards the mirror and gazed at her own wide-eyed reflection. Someone had removed her suit jacket, and her hair was loose and falling out of its knot at the back. The minutes ticked by, and she was fruitlessly tugging at the leather that held her in place when the door was abruptly opened. She jumped, and the man from before strutted in boldly. He was barely recognizable, his demeanor and appearance had changed so much. His beard was trimmed; his face and hair were washed, the hair slicked back. Gone were the baggy jeans and the filthy hoodie, they had been replaced by and expensive-looking suit. He no longer slouched and his eyes were clear and focused. All in all, he was a much more frightening man than before.

"Hello, detective. I hope I haven't kept you waiting long; I was speaking to Mr. Spencer. And he has _kindly_ told me exactly where to find the information I am looking for."

Juliet's heart jumped at his words. "What information?"

"Well, miss O'Hara, that man who's house I was searching stole something very valuable from me. Some papers. And if anyone knows where the man or the papers are, then it would be the detective working the case. Am I right?"

Juliet needed to know exactly who this man was and what was going on, without seeming threatening or nosy. After thinking for a moment, she replied,

"I might know about the papers. Why are they so important? Maybe if you can tell me something about them then I will be able to tell you where they might be."

The man crossed the room in two steps, until he towered over her. His calm face was gone, replaced by cold anger.

"Listen up. I don't have times for your clever games. There is information in those files capable of bringing down the government, and if I don't retrieve them ASAP, then me and this entire organization are toast. So you are going to tell me how to find them, whether or not you want to_._"

The blonde detective frowned, baffled by his words. "You work for the government?" why would a government official kidnap someone in the police force?

He smiled coldly, and Juliet shivered. "Quite the contrary. We are hired to bring down governments. This is certainly our biggest job yet, and if we blow it, we're finished. So, you see, I am completely prepared to do absolutely _anything_ to get those files back. And certainly nothing as petty as moral values will stand in my way, so I hope for your sake that you are planning on cooperating. Are we clear?"

Juliet stared up at the man in shock as she finally realized where she was and who she was dealing with. This place, wherever it was, was a terrorist base. Hired terrorists, that was a new one. When she remained silent, the man turned and walked out the door. Just before he closed the door, he turned and said to her, "Think carefully, detective, before you make your decision. And take care not to forget who I am, or the methods at my disposal for getting what I want from you. I haven't really told you, I suppose, but you seem clever. Use your imagination."

The door clicked softly closed, and Juliet was left alone. Her heart was racing and she took slow, deep breaths to try and calm it. _Ok. _She told herself. _Don't panic, you can get out of this, you've been in worse situations. _She paused, not being able to think of any. _He's probably bluffing, anyways. Hired terrorists? Seems a bit far-fetched. _But she was becoming less and less sure as she looked at her surroundings again, and realized why they looked so familiar. There were a lot of extra wires and gadgets lying around, but the design was basically the same. The size, the mirror, the placement of the door.

It was definitely in an interrogation room.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

There were no windows in the room, so Juliet had no way of knowing how long she had been in this place. But whether it had been hours or a whole day, she needed to get out as soon as possible. She examined the straps around her wrists, and realized that if they had been pinned wrist up then she could probably have unbuckled them. She tried to twist her hand around to a better position, but the leather was tight and she could barely move her wrists without pain, much less twist them all the way around. There had to be another way out of this mess, but after a few minutes of desperately trying to come up with another escape route her original plan seemed like the only option. So carefully rotating one wrist as far as it could go, she bit her lip and twisted it the rest of the way with a quick jerk. As hard as she tried to keep quiet, a small whimper escaped her as the delicate bones in her wrist bent and snapped under the pressure. She sat there for a few minutes, gasping in pain and trying to steel herself for what she had to do next, which she knew would be even less pleasant.

When she knew she couldn't put it off anymore without risking being discovered, Juliet carefully reached her fingers towards the buckle and began to unfasten it. Tears formed in her eyes as her broken wrist was stretched, and the bones grated against each other whenever she moved. And even when she got her wrist freed, she had to twist her arm again to unbuckle her upper arm. She finally got an entire arm loose, and quickly undid the rest of her bonds while trying to ignore the white hot flashes of pain shooting up her arm whenever she moved.

Once she had the use of her body again Juliet stumbled over to the door and was immensely relieved to find it unlocked. Poking her head into the corridor, she saw that it was empty except for a small table near the end, where a metal tray sat with the contents of her pockets placed on top. _Her phone._

Her legs were numb and tired from being still for so long, but they were mostly working again by the time she reached the life saving device. Trying to use mostly her uninjured right hand, Juliet clumsily sent a text message to her partner. A call would be too loud. Carefully choosing the right words, she typed,

_**Shawn and I have been kidnapped. The Theft was much bigger than we thought, Please send help.**_

_**Juliet**_

she put the phone down as the message sent. It clicked softly as it hit the metal tray and she froze, before realizing that no one was close enough to hear.

Crouching low, she slowly made her way down to the end of the next hallway where a door stood slightly ajar. On the other side she could see faint daylight. She prayed that it wouldn't squeak as she gently pressed the fingertips of her good hand against the cold metal to open it. To her relief, It glided silently open, revealing what lay beyond.

Detective Lassiter was at this desk, trying to get work done despite worrying about his partner. He was trying to convince himself that she was O.K. when his phone buzzed. It was instantly snatched up, and his eyes scanned the screen. He saw that the message was from Juliet, and he relaxed slightly. If she was texting him then she must be all right. But then he opened the message, and he froze. Buzz, walking by, stopped as he saw the expression on his superior's face.

"Hey, detective. You ok?"

The voice snapped Lassiter back into reality and he turned to the younger man.

"McNab, tell the chief that I'm leaving and probably wont be back anytime soon."

"Where…?" he started to ask, before correcting himself. "Yes, sir." And he tentatively walked over to the chief's office as the gray haired detective marched out of the building.

As he slammed his car door shut and started the engine, his way was blocked by chief Vick striding up behind the vehicle and rapping on the window.

"Detective Lassiter!"

"Chief?"

The imposing woman looked incredulously at her head detective. "Where the _hell _do you think your going? Detective O'Hara already left today, you are not going too."

Lassiter heaved a sigh at the delay. This was only wasting his time while his partner was in danger. "I don't think she left, chief. I think she has gotten herself into a bit of trouble, I need to go help her now."

"I cant waste recourses on a hunch, detective. Give me proof, or get back inside."

Growling in frustration, he dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the text from Juliet. The chief's eyes scanned the message, widening as she read it. "Why didn't you tell me about this immediately?" she said angrily, straightening up. Don't go anywhere, we're going to send people after her as soon as we trace the signal." She grabbed the phone, but as she turned to walk back to the station it buzzed again. Glancing at the screen, she murmured, "Juliet." And opened the text. It _dinged_ as it opened, and shock instantly covered her face. She slowly lowered the phone, and the detective's heart nearly stopped when he saw the expression on her face as she did.

Juliet peered into the warehouse where they had chased the thief to, and at the end a door stood wide open, sunlight spilling into the huge, dark room. Freedom was _so close…_ then she remembered Shawn. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she had time to try and find him. But her mind was abruptly made up for her as the sound of a crash and a shout echoed from the hallway behind her. Her training instantly kicked in, and she was instantly sprinting across the concrete, dodging and jumping over crates of who knows what. Adrenalin quickly added to her speed as she heard people running out of the door she had just come from and began to gain on her. The fact that she was exhausted and probably concussed wasn't helping matters, and she hear the angry yells getting steadily closer no matter how hard she ran. She was so close… she was going to make it! But then her pursuers realized that they didn't need to play fair, and Juliet fell as a heavy metal stick flew hard into her back and knocked her forward. Dazed, she glanced up, catching a glimpse of a beautiful blue sky and a lungful of sweet fresh air before she was violently dragged backwards and thrown back to the ground. The door was slammed shut, and in the dim light the junior detective could only see the vague shapes of men crowding around her. Certainly she never saw the first blow coming, only heard the sound of the solid metal stick that they carried as it hissed through the air towards her stomach.

All the air in her lungs was forced out as it made contact and she frantically gasped for breath as pain shot through her. After the first hit, the others were quick to join in and soon Juliet was being pounded from all sides. She automatically tried to curl up into the fetal position to minimize damage, but strong hands grabbed her arms and legs, pinning her down and crushing her broken wrist as her captors beat her again and again.

Her screams of pain echoed through the warehouse for what seemed like hours, but in reality couldn't be more then ten minutes. When the noises of metal hitting flesh finally ceased, the huge room was quiet except for Juliet's choked sobs. The men hovered for a few moment and let her cry, but they were impatient. Two of them roughly grabbed her under the arms and hefted her up to her feet so that she stood shakily between them. She cried out in pain, and one of the armed ones smacked her with his weapon. Her entire body shuddered with the effort of keeping silent while the men laughed at her.

She was dragged back through the door, which she now saw was nearly invisible from the outside. Every few seconds, if she didn't move fast enough, she would get another hit from one of the men she assumed were part of the terrorist group. They seemed to be taking her a different way than the route she had nearly escaped by, and unfortunaly it was much longer. Finally the blonde detective couldn't take it anymore, and with a final strike to a broken rib collapsed on the floor, where she was subject to a dozen blows before her tormentors realized that they weren't actually helping.

"Get up." One of them said in a gruff voice.

Juliet blinked up at him through a haze of pain as she realized what he wanted and slowly pulled herself up. There was not an inch of her that didn't hurt, and blood was running into her eyes and down her back. She held back a wail of anguish as she put weight on her leg, which felt broken in at least one place. The dense metal of their sticks made for an incredibly powerful weapon and snapped her bones as easily as they would a branch.

Grabbing her once again, the men half dragged her the rest of the way to their destination. When they arrived, and she saw bars through the fog, she panicked. They had realized how useless she was to them, and now they were going to lock her up and leave her to die. She tried hopelessly to get free from the iron grip as their mocking laughter filled her head. But then a familiar voice cut through the noise, calling her name and bringing her back to reality.

"Juliet!"

She was pulled towards the voice, finally given something good to cling to.

"Shawn?"


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so sorry! I know I said I'd have this up over a MONTH ago, but life happened. I honestly did have it finished when I said I would, but then I read over it and realized that it was terrible. four drafts later, I still wasn't satisfied, and I'm still not completely happy with it. But enough is enough, I am definitely out of time. So here is chapter four, I hope you like it. Please review!

and I have to add one more thing. Thank you so much to reviewer Joanna. I was at the point where I was almost giving up on the story, but her review pushed me to finish. All reviews helped, hers was just just so long after I'd posted that it surprised me.

Ch. 4

Juliet couldn't see for the blood running into her eyes, but she still reached for the voice of her boyfriend, unmistakable amongst the harsh voices of her kidnappers. She heard the click of a lock, and then frantic footsteps rushing towards her. Gentle hands grabbed hers, and she gasped in pain as her broken wrist protested.

"Oh my god, Juliet! What did you do to her?"

The amused voice of one of the men responded, "She thought she could outsmart us, we simply showed her her error. She needed to be put in her place."

Shawn was speechless with anger at how these men were treating his Juliet. He put his hand protectively on her shoulder.

"Pick her up, psychic."

"What? No way! That could badly hurt her!"

"Maybe you didn't hear me. I told you to pick up the girl." the man lifted his weapon slightly. Shawn knew he had no choice. He couldn't risk Juliet being hit again, the damage would most likely be life threatening. So he knelt softly beside her and slipped his arms underneath her torso and legs. She whimpered at the pressure, and he froze. He wiped the blood from her eyes so she could see who he was and that he would not try to hurt her.

"Hey, Jules." he whispered. "I have to pick you up, but I don't want to hurt you. Will you be all right?"

"Yeah," she croaked.

He tried again but this time she gritted her teeth and stayed silent. Shawn slowly stood up until he was straight, standing before the men with Juliet cradled in his arms.

The one who was clearly in charge, with the black coat, then did something unexpected. From his pocket he pulled a familiar phone. He lifted it up and snapped a picture of them, then typed something in. Smirking, he leaned forward and showed them the screen.

Juliet was the first to react, although at first she was just confused. Who was that poor girl Shawn was holding? But then she began to notice the details, the blonde hair covered in blood, the nice clothes ripped and battered, and the terrified, distressed look in her pale blue eyes.

"Oh..." when she realized that the girl was her, she immediately began to panic. How could she be that badly off? That girl looked like she was dying, and Juliet hadn't had any idea that she was hurt anywhere close to that. She held back tears of horror as she read the lines of type underneath.

Detective Lassiter- we have your partner and the psychic. If you want to see either one of them alive again, you will come to the warehouse where she was last heard from, alone. If we find any backup within a five-mile radius then we will shoot one of them. And I would hurry if I were you. I don't think miss O'Hara is going to be able to hold on much longer.

She hadn't realized that she was shaking until she heard the noises of Shawn trying to calm her.

"Juliet, it's gonna be ok. I won't let them hurt you. It's alright. It's alright." his fingers were gently stroking her arm, the small bit he could reach while holding her.

The man in the black coat laughed. "Don't lie to her, psychic. You have no say in whether or not we hurt her."

And with that, the other men walked up to him and reached for Juliet. Shawn couldn't even try to stop them for fear of hurting her. They each grabbed an arm and between them carried her over to the cell across from his. Black coat guy at the same time 'escorted' Shawn to his, unlocked it and tried to push him in. Shawn tried to fight him, but he wasn't very strong at the best of times and another thug quickly joined the fight.

Shawn quickly crumpled when one of the heavy metal sticks made contact with his skull. His mind was spinning as they dragged him over to his cell and left him panting on the floor. The lock clicked shut as he blearily raised his head. He saw Juliet in the cell across from his getting similar treatment. Except in her cell, they left a small white package with a red x on it. Medical supplies. Shawn bristled, knowing they had only left them to taunt her, as she could barely move, much less treat her own injuries. After double-checking her locks, they left with smug grins on their faces.

Now there was no sound in the almost empty block of cells except for Shawn's heavy breathing and Juliet's muffled sobs. Shawn carefully watched her to see how she would react to the supplies, if they would upset her more. But to his surprise, after several moments she dragged herself from her position on the floor over to the package and began to try to open it. When she saw him staring at her in awe she shot him a weak smile, before busting open the package and spreading the supplies around her on the concrete.

Would this amazing woman ever cease to astound him? There she was, bleeding and broken and completely helpless. Or so they thought, because after already doing the impossible and moving, she was now going to give herself medical treatment.

She reached first for the bandages and began to wrap her wrist. Blood gathered at her mouth as she bit her lip hard to avoid crying out. Shawn could practically hear the bones grating against one another as she tightly wound the cloth around the broken limb. When she had some use of her arm she began to wrap her ribs and set the bones in her leg so that they would not heal crooked. Her shouts of pain were mostly contained, and by the time she was done with her bones tears were pouring down her face. She was getting weaker from pain and blood loss, so after carefully bandaging the open cut on her forehead she curled up in the corner of her cell and waited for sleep. Shawn thought about stopping her, worried that she might not wake up, but she just looked so tired… so he let her rest. The sleep wasn't long in coming. When her soft breathing finally became the only noise in the hallway, Shawn relaxed somewhat. Raising his hand to his face, he realized for the first time that he was crying as well. He didn't sleep at all that night, just sat there and watched over Juliet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Detective Lassiter pulled up to the warehouse at long last. It didn't look like much, but this was the place where he had been told Juliet was being held. He pulled his gun and crept stealthily around the side to the door. Inside, the building was large and dark and each of his footsteps echoed back to him. He didn't see how anyone else could be there without him hearing, but he walked on. Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet changed. Instead of the cold concrete he was used to, it became stick and wet. He looked down to fin himself standing in a dark puddle... Blood? His heart jumped in shock when a few feet away he noticed a small gray suit jacket stained dark. Leaning over to brush it with his fingers, he recognized the material and the liquid. Juliet had been wearing the jacket, and it was definitely covered in blood. He stepped back in horror. What had happened here? His detective's brain immediately kicked in and he began to notice details. The footprints on the ground, the short metal instrument lying near the scene of the crime.

The scenario of what might have happened here was quickly forming in him mind, and he didn't like it one bit. He was getting angry, picturing what had happened to his partner here, when he heard brisk footsteps coming up behind him. He turned on his heel to face the suit-clad man striding out of the darkness, his expensive shoes clicking on the concrete.

"Ah, detective Lassiter! I was worried you wouldn't show. What do you think of my little crime scene here? I had the jacket put out just for your benefit."

Lassiter looked at this confident man standing before him, calmly talking about how he had had a woman beaten and coated her jacket in her blood. He really hoped he wasn't dealing with a psychopath here, because the last thing he needed today was an unpredictable kidnapper.

But he just stood there smiling. "Well, Come on then!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Aren't you just dying to see the rest of the facilities?" and with that he turned and walked away.

Not seeing that he had much of a choice, Lassiter followed him towards the back of the warehouse. They stopped at the back wall, and the man turned and winked at him before sliding opened a hidden panel in the wall to reveal the dark hallway beyond.

The passageway was cool and echoey, their footsteps bouncing ominously back to the Detective's ears.

'I'm sure you are just dying to see Ms. O'Hara, aren't you?" he asked with a smirk. "Well, I'm afraid you are going to have to wait a teensy bit longer. She's a bit occupied at the moment.

Lassiter didn't know what the man meant by 'occupied', but it didn't sound at all nice and his dislike for that man continued to steadily increase.

"Until then, however, we have a lovely waiting room where you can rest and wait. Right this way, please."

A door to the right of them silently glided open. The room was dim, but it didn't look like a cell.

"Now tell me. _Why_ should I go in there?" he asked. "I have absolutely no reason to trust you.

The man smirked. "Then I suppose we will have to let you go. But then you would have to settle for bringing Mr. Spencer back with you, because the young detective would be staying with us. I'm sure we can find a use for such a pretty young thing like her."

Lassiter saw that he had no way out of this, so he resisted the almost overwhelming urge to punch this man in the face and instead walked into the room. The door clanged shut behind him and lights flickered on. The room was gray concrete, with a couch off to the side and a blanket carefully folded over the armrest. He sat down with a groan. This was not going as planned and the chief would not be pleased. He realized that he was essentially a prisoner now and had no clue how long it would be until someone came for him. Irritated, he slumped back in his seat and began his long wait.

X

Thanks! so, any comments or suggestions are MUCH appreciated. I shall now go sit in the corner and feel bad about what I'm going to do in the next chapter... *evil grin*

Bye!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello again! Here is chapter five. I apologize for any small errors, I had to work super fast to get it here in time. But I did, So please read, review, and enjoy. Thanks!

Ch. 5

Detective Lassiter hadn't noticed dozing off. The lighting in the concrete room was dim, and he had been sitting there for hours at least. For one blessed moment, he forgot where he was. He must have gotten home late last night and crashed on the couch, his slowly waking brain thought. But then his hand slipped under the pillow, and there was no comforting handgun there. Instantly he was awake, his eyes flashing around the room and his hand going to his waist, where there was also no gun. Growling curses to the air, he jumped off the couch. Thank God. There she was, lying halfway under a blanket on the floor. He snatched his baby up and checked for damage before carefully replacing her in the holster. His now very much alert mind remembered the events of the night before, and his police training immediately began to kick in.

Doors, locked. No windows. Nothing in the room but the couch. Lassiter was beginning to get frustrated, when a static noise broke the silence.

"Good morning, Detective! I trust you slept well?" the voice paused as if it expected an answer. "No? My apologies. Now, sit tight. I am sending some men to collect you. Please, try to refrain from shooting them. It is rather hard to find good thugs these days." The intercom had barely clicked off when the locks on the door began to click open one by one, and the heavy slab of metal slid to the side. Two burly men walked in with blank expressions on their faces and each took one of Lassiter's arms. He resisted the urge to punch them in their ugly faces, knowing it would be pointless. There was no avoiding the fact that he was a prisoner now.

They walked down a hallway similar to the one he had taken yesterday, only much larger. The door he was pulled through seemed oddly familiar too… but all thoughts of this vanished when he saw the inside. In the center of the room was a chair, with leather straps fixed at certain points. But even this worrying sight wasn't what had shocked him. On the ground, dropped almost behind the chair, was a police badge. His arms had been released and he sprung forward to snatch the badge and examine it. Now that his face was level with the chair, he noticed something he hadn't before. A chip of pale pink nail polish… like what Juliet had been wearing. And yes, he definitely caught the scent of peaches that seemed to follow her everywhere. His partner had been here.

But before he could demand answers, he was once again grabbed and forcibly shoved into the chair. Swift hands buckled the leather straps around his wrists, ankles, and torso. The detective was a strong man, but there was no way he could fight off these people. For the time being, he satisfied himself with cursing their existences and obscenely insulting everyone they had ever known or loved. But these men were apparently quite attached to their mothers, and a blow to the face silenced him until several moments after they had left.

He was left there, in the dim room, for what felt like forever. But eventually the door swung open and in stepped the man who had greeted him yesterday.

"Hello!" his voice was cheery and bright, as though he were standing in front of his favorite food instead of a man tied to a chair. "How have we been, detective? I am terribly sorry that you had to wait so long, but I had some… business to attend to."

"Cut the crap. Are you here to tell me something important? And maybe while you're here, you could answer a few questions for me. For example, who are you and what the hell is this place?"

The answering chuckle was cold and without humor. "I'm sorry, but for now, I think you'll be the one answering questions. You see, you have some information that I need. Your partner also had it. But she clearly was not willing to help me. And we all know where that got her!" He turned, and pressed a button on a screen in the corner. An image flickered to life, of a cell lined hallway. The view was split in two, so both sides of the hallway were visible. Squinting, Lassiter could see the figures and identify them. On the right side, he saw Spencer leaning up against the bars of his cell. And on the other side, a slim figure who he assumed was Juliet was curled up in a corner, not moving.

"So," the man continued, " I hope you might be more forthcoming."

Even though there was no way on earth he was telling this man anything, detective Lassiter decided to play along for a while. "What do you need to know?"

The man smiled at this reply. "Well, as you know, I was being followed for robbing a house. Inside those house was a folder, stuffed with information strong enough to bring down a government. I need this information, and I know that the robbery was your case. You know where the file is. Are you going to tell me?"

Lassiter finally realized what was going on. He was dealing with terrorists. _Terrorists. _ And they didn't seem to be in the best of mental health, either. "Sorry. I can't tell you that."

The man sighed. "I didn't think so. I really didn't want to have to use my regular methods with you, detective. I'm disappointed." He turned to the door, and two large men walked in. Lassiter was roughly released and his hands were cuffed behind him. "Let's go. I think its time to pay a visit to dear Juliet."

"No." he hadn't realized that he had said it outloud until his captor turned to him with laughing eyes.

"Aw, you don't want to see your partner? I think she would be very upset to hear that. Don't worry, I won't tell her." He winked as his pace sped up. Lassiter stumbled to keep up as they moved farther into the maze of hallways. Finally, in a passage to the right, he glimpsed metal bars glistening in the dim lights. A few more steps and they turned.

There were only two prisoners in this hall, the same as he had seen from the security camera. Neither Shawn nor Juliet had moved, but now the Psychic raised his head. His tired eyes widened in horror and shock when he saw the Detective.

"Lassie! What are you _doing _here?"

"It's good to see you too, Spencer."

The man in charge rolled his eyes at the banter. "Bring out the girl."

Lassiter immediately tensed up as the first of the two men walked towards Juliet's cell. She didn't move as the door slid open, or as he clucked over to her. The Detective winced as he poked her roughly with his boot. But instead of gasping awake like he expected, she continued to lie perfectly still. His heart rate picked up, and he felt panic began to race through his body.

"Juliet!" he called, hoping she might hear him and get up. But she remained unmoving, and the frustrated man roughly kicked her limp body over. Her arm was splayed awkwardly across the concrete, and her face turned skyward. But the worst part, the part that ripped the scream of fury from Shawn and nearly stopped the detective's pounding heart, was her eyes. They stared up at the ceiling, the bright blue eyes blank and unseeing.

* * *

AAH! I'm sorry!

Ok. so after that, I'm sure you all want the next chapter pretty quickly. I am going to have a pretty busy week, actually, but I will try to get it in within two weeks. Reviews speed me up, and I do take all suggestions into account. I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen next, so any ideas have a pretty good chance of being used and are MUCH appreciated!

so until then, farewell.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello. I know I can't really apologize adequately for how long this took. So I'm not going to try. Here it is, though. Wrote most of it during school, while recovering from a mild concussion, so I don't know how great it's going to be. Also I know It's short, but it was this or nothing, for reasons I'll explain at the bottom. Enjoy, then, I guess.

Ch.6

Detective Carlton Lassiter stood frozen in shock, staring at the blank eyes of his partner.

"Dammit!" The black suited man behind him cursed. "She was going to be _useful._" Hearing him speak about Juliet as though she were no more than a means to reach his goal, the detective snapped. The men holding his arms caught him before he could bash the smirk off his face, although he got close enough to scare him a bit.

"Boys, would you please put Mr. Lassiter away for a while?" The officer felt himself led over to and pushed into the cell beside Spencer's. Completely ignoring the psychic's attempts to get his attention, he turned his eyes towards Juliet. He searched for signs of life. He squinted, making sure he wasn't imagining it. No. He definitely saw it. Although it was very, very subtle, the junior detective's chest was steadily rising and falling as she breathed.

"Lassie!" the detective finally turned, giving spencer a slightly confused, but still irritated, look. The only thing he got in return was a small shake of the head. _Don't say anything. _He was stopped from questioning the younger man by his captor giving orders in an exasperated tone.

"Benoni, go and see if there's any salvageable life signs in the girl. Maybe we can still manage to get some information from her before she dies. If she hasn't already, I mean." Beside him, Shawn's breath sped up from what sounded like nervousness. Nervous, not worried? What had he missed while in that room?

* * *

_Earlier that day_

"Shawn." Hazel eyes instantly snapped their gaze from where it rested on the camera to the blonde woman in the cell across from them. Juliet was slowly pulling herself into an upright position, eyes fixed on Shawn.

"Jules, you're awake! Are you ok?"

"Define ok. I don't feel like I'm dying anymore, if that's what you mean. Although," she added, wincing as she flexed her fingers, "I'm not entirely sure how much I would mind if I was."

Shawn chose to ignore the twisting sensation in his gut the last comment caused him. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. As soon as we're out of here, you can lie in bed all day while I feed you cookies and aspirin."

She grinned weakly in return before responding. "I'll hold you to it. But first we have to get out. Any ideas?"

The psychic sat silently for a few moments. Then- " hey, Jules… how good are you at playing dead?"

* * *

The man called Benoni, a tall, muscular man in a dark red V-neck, knelt by Juliet. He frowned in annoyance as the bandages wrapped around her neck and wrists prevented him from taking her pulse, and looked up at his boss in askance. _Really?_ Was the responding look.

* * *

Juliet struggled with the needle as she tried to sew the bandages on to her right wrist in place. Anything, however small, that might help this insane plan go successfully was being done. No matter how small the chances of success were, they were better than if they sat around and did nothing, and there was no way she was going down without a fight.

Without a knife and unable to pull the tiny stitches out with his fingers, the man was getting irritated. And for one shining moment, Shawn thought his plan might succeed. But of course his luck would never let that happen.

* * *

"For the love of god!" The second man, this one in a navy blue hoodie, shoved his co-worker to the side and crouched beside the unconscious cop himself. "There is one thing ", he said as he grasped Juliet's broken left arm, "That the human body will react to as long as there is life in it."

And with that he jerked her arm, twisting it as far as it would go. Cracked bones snapped, and the hallway's occupants could almost hear the sound of the edges grating together, scraping and tearing muscle and tendon as it moved in a way no human arm should ever move.

Until now, Juliet had managed to stay completely silent and still, even when her injured arm had been roughly grabbed. But no one, no matter how strong, could suffer that much pain silently. Her scream of anguish echoed through the cellblock, shaking the hearts of all present. The two hired men winced at the subhuman sound, while their employer grinned in a way that was far too self satisfied. Behind the bars, Shawn closed his eyes to block out the sight of his girlfriend's tortured expression, of their last hope of escape demolished by one simple movement. Lassiter just stared, eyes wide with horror.

He had seen people in this much pain before, of course. It came with the job. But never someone he knew, someone he _cared_ about.

When the scream had subsided into frantic, sobbing gasps, the man in charge walked over to where she lay and looked down at her trembling form.

"Well, well, well. Ms. Juliet. I hope that teaches you a little something about lying to your superiors in the future." Her only response was to whimper. "I really, really, don't like it when a pet begins to think they can outsmart their _master._ And, I'm sorry, but you are going to pay dearly for trying." He turned to his men. "Boys, you have full access to the supply closet, torture her until she tells us everything we want to know. I'm tired of playing."

Shawn didn't know what the supply closet was, but he could make a pretty good guess, and there was no way he was going to let anyone do this to Juliet.

"No, stop it! It wasn't her idea." The words spilled out, and all eyes in the room turned to him.

"Shawn, no…" Juliet managed to choke out before a thick hand clamped itself over her mouth.

"Shut up, bitch." Her eyes continued to plead with him, though, and it took all of his willpower to ignore them and keep speaking.

"Yeah. I made her do it. This wasn't her fault." The eyebrows of the imposing man went up.

"Weeeeeell… the thing about that, _dear_, is that she was the one lying on the ground trying to play dead. No one could have forced her to do that. But," he continued with a sigh, " now that I know you had a part I can't really let you get off Scott free." He pretended to think. "I know! How about, since your plan was to sit and watch as she put herself in the line of fire, I'll give you a front row seat as she takes the fall for it. Sound fair?"

"Wha- No!" the psychic stammered, as the blue hoodie wearing man pulled open the door to his cell. He struggled, but he was no match for his muscular opponent and soon found himself pulled out and pinned to the bars. Handcuffs clinked, holding him tightly in place with his arms spread to either side. In front of him, Juliet was roughly forced to her knees, a hand in her hair keeping her chin up and her back straight. Red shirt had mysteriously vanished while Shawn had been occupied, but he now appeared carrying a simple wooden box.

It was placed on the ground and pried open to reveal a variety of strange wooden and metal appliances resting on velvet-covered shelves, folded in like a jewelry box. The leader walked over with his hands in his pockets, gazing fondly at the cruel looking devices. "My third best set. Won 'em in a game against a duke about fifteen years back. Good times…"

Shawn's voice broke through his reverie. "Don't you TOUCH HER with those!" But the man with the cruel smile just sauntered over and whispered,

"Keep you eyes wide open, now. Things are just about to get interesting, and I don't want you to miss out on the fun"

So. Yes.

I'm not actually a cruel person who lives off the pain of withheld plots, as much as it may seem like it. But this past month I've been going through some stuff, and recently I've been feeling really, really, unmotivated. Not just to write, which is bad enough, but to do anything. In fact, I probably would have just laid on the couch for the rest of my life, staring at the ceiling, if it weren't for the fantastic LyssLovesTiva33. Without you, this chapter would still be no more than a vacant idea. You gave me enough motivation to get through this chapter, as well as the basis for the plot. Thank you so much.

Unfortunately, the urge to be completely useless hit me hard friday. All I needed to do was type this up and edit, but I just couldn't. Clearly I eventually forced myself to, but another thousand words that should be here were lost to my psychological issues. They will still come, in the form of chapter seven, but I really do need help getting there. Every review gives me another reason to keep writing, so please try to take a few moments and type something up. It really means the world to me.

Also, anyone with words of inspiration or motivation would be deeply appreciated.

Thank you all for sticking with me.

StarsInTheRiver


	7. Chapter 7

Well, looky there. I seem to have **finally **updated! I know you guys are probably all very sick and tired of my long waits, and I promise to do anything I can to improve these next few updates. This chapter's a bit longer than normal, so I hope I didn't trade quality for quantity. Let me know! Reviews are encouragement, and if you take the time to give feedback and suggestions then I love you.

Ch. 7

As yet another stifled cry of pain came from the woman chained up across from him, Shawn began to realize just how good these men were at what they did. They had only picked up one or two of the numerous tools at their disposal, and they already had Juliet slumped at their feet, supported only by handcuffs and whimpering through her gag.

For her sake, Shawn had managed to keep back most of his tears. The last thing she needed was to see him break down too. But this by no means meant he was quiet. Both him and the detective in the cell behind him were alternately pleading with and screaming abuse at the men.

They didn't seem to mind the noise, though, and if anything it was egging them on.

One of them was humming- actually humming! –As he pulled open another layer of the box and grabbed a smaller container from inside. He made as if to open it, but a tap on his shoulder stopped him.

"Thank you, boys. You've done great, but I think I'll take it from here" Their boss, who somehow had remained immaculately neat despite the activity and grime of the last few hours, held out his hand. The smaller box was handed over and the two men stepped back, standing at the end of the hallway. The man Shawn had spent the last day learning to fear and hate now crouched before Juliet. The wooden box popped open with a click, and her eyes widened when she saw the contents. Shawn craned and twisted for a glimpse, but was rewarded with nothing more than a cramp in his neck. A hand under her chin jerked the junior detective's head up so that she stared her tormenter in the eyes. The brown looked into the blue, and an unspoken message seemed to pass between them. Juliet recoiled slightly, though her gaze remained relatively steady.

"Miss O'Hara." His voice was almost proud, and for some reason it was making Shawn very nervous. "So far, you have held up tremendously well. None of us would have expected you to be this resilient." His face saddened mockingly as he continued, "but no more. I'm sorry, but you are soon going to tell us absolutely everything you know about my file. More, if I asked for it. But don't blame yourself. Know that there was absolutely nothing you could have done to stop this. Everyone succumbs to me in the end." He now pulled from the box in his hands two things. The first was a small glass vial, about the size of a pill bottle, filled with a shimmering ruby liquid. The other, a knife with a blade as thin as paper, about four inches long, half an inch wide. Turning to Shawn, he held the crystal bottle up to the light. "Do you know what this is?"

The answer seemed obvious to him, considering the circumstances.

"It's poison."

"Good! A very rare, very effective poison as it happens. I won't tell you what it does, I want that to be a surprise." Somehow, despite (or perhaps because of') the situation, Shawn couldn't resist a smart remark.

"You know, that's never a good idea. I _always_ screw everything up where secrets are involved, and-"

"Shut up." For what might have been the first time in his life, Shawn obeyed.

"Good. You know, you've really got a problem with that mouth of yours. You should work on that." He turned back to Juliet, slipping the razor-sharp blade easily through the wax seal on the bottle as he did. The silver knife glistened with the scarlet liquid when he pulled it out, and she shied away as much as her binds would allow. His laughter as he relished her terror stung Shawn's ears, and an intense hatred welled up inside of him. This man was going to pay for this, no matter what.

The man in question now crouched by the shaking Juliet, and reached forward to grab her throat. He ignored the cries of outrage from behind him as he pinned her to the wall and watched her struggle for air. At the last second, when it looked like Juliet was going to pass out, he loosened his grip enough to allow her a breath. And in the exact moment, just as she drew in a desperate gasp of air, he drove his blade into her shoulder as deep as it would go. Although it must have burned like hell, it was by no means the most painful thing she had experienced that day and she only cried out once before managing to silence herself.

The man chuckled again as he stood. "Good girl, Juliet. You learn quickly."

She shivered as he skimmed his fingered over her face, running them through her hair until they trailed away down her arm. "You really do have a lovely girl here, Shawn. I'd take better care of her in the future if I were you. undesirable things can happen to pretty girls in bad company…"

Once again Shawn's vision was tinged red with fury at the implication. "Keep… your filthy hands… away from her."

But before the conversation could go any further, they were all startled by the sudden blaring of an alarm. Lights flashed wildly, and the man in charge cursed.

"Damn it! How is that _possible_?"

Shawn twisted to look at Lassiter, hoping he would know what the alarm meant, and instantly got his answer. The detective had somehow managed to reach Juliet's phone from his cell, and the call he had made was still in progress. A call that would be easily be traced from the station where it was directed, and depending how long ago the detective had made it, could be the cause for the alarms.

His train of thought was cut off there, as the men standing guard sprang into action. Both Shawn and Juliet were un-cuffed and pushed into the hallway, held tightly by one man. The other was standing in front of Lassiter's cell beside his boss, who was glaring down on the older man. The cell phone was in his hand. After several moments of silence, save for the alarms, he turned and murmured something quietly to his employee.

The cell was opened, and the detective dragged out. Shawn was pulled to the side as Lassiter was forcibly escorted away. Just as he passed the couple, he hissed to Shawn, "You had better get her out of this safe, spencer, or I swear to God-"

Then he was gone, dragged out of sight. For several dragging moments, nobody moved. Then…

_**CRACK.**_

The sound of a gunshot resonated through the corridor.

* * *

SBPD Chief of police Karen Vick sat at her desk, fingers tapping out a nervous beat on the wood. Her head detective had been gone for nearly eight hours now, and the sun would be coming up soon. If he didn't contact them soon, she would have no choice but to go in after him blindly, risking the lives of two officers and a civilian. But just as she made a move to stand, the cell phone on her desk gave a shrill ring. Signaling to the small group of worried officers outside her door, she picked it up and set it to speakerphone. They all needed to hear this if they were going to be of any help later. The last few men squeezed in to the relatively small office, closely followed by Guster who she didn't try to shoo away. Shawn was his best friend, and she didn't have the heart to leave him in the dark when they might be getting new information.

The office was completely silent except for a faint rasping from the device, so they all jumped a little when a strange voice spoke suddenly.

"Alright boys, go crazy." The voice wasn't too deep, with an accent that could possibly be Irish. She turned to quietly ask if anyone recognized it, when an agonized scream blasted through the speakers. The chief, along with most of the room, instantly recognized the voice as O'Hara's, and horrified eyes turned to her for instructions. She stared beck helplessly. They were actually torturing her… Another wail of pain snapped her from her daze, in time to hear a low voice added to Juliet's cries. It was shaking from anger and what could possibly be tears, but the words were clear enough.

"Chief, this is Detective Lassiter. Don't try to talk, I've muted it. The situation here is becoming critical, and there's no time to wait for a good moment. They want information about a file from the house robbery, and they know O'Hara can give it to them. She was already pretty badly off when I arrived, and I believe they plan on continuing to torture her until she tells them or dies, whichever happens first. And either way, I don't think she can take much more."

His point was made by a strange sobbing, choking noise from Juliet.

"Just get down here as fast as you possibly can while they are still distracted. Leave this call going in case something develops."

The next ten minutes were a blur of orders and sirens, but soon a small herd of police vehicles were heading towards Lassiter's location at record speeds. Vick kept a careful ear on the phone, but her head detective didn't say much else. Unfortunately, this meant that she heard everything that went on at the other end. Every threat, every scream, every plea for mercy. She listened closely when the first voice, which she assumed from the tone belonged to whoever was in charge of the operation, spoke, but he said nothing of importance to the case. She sped up when she heard Juliet being poisoned, and was only five minutes away when the alarms went off. There was a clamor as Lassiter was taken away, a faint crack, then silence. Nothing was in range of the microphone.

When they pulled up at the entrance, the place looked completely abandoned. Except for one thing, leaning by the warehouse doors. She couldn't quite make it out, a red, white, and black mess on the ground… Then her heart nearly stopped as she realized what it was. Detective Lassiter, pale as a ghost, was covered in blood and slumped against the doorframe. And there was something white, rapidly turning red, taped to his chest. A note, she realized as she raced towards him. Two words, printed in big dark letters.

**TOO LATE.**

* * *

"CARLTON" Juliet screamed, still clinging to Shawn for support. Not that he was great support at the moment. The second he had heard the gunshot, his mind had gone completely numb, and he was now standing stock-still, staring at the dark hallway Lassie had disappeared into a moment before. Because of course he was going to come back, going to walk back around that corner and smile at them. Because Lassie was invincible, no silly gun could stop him…

He continued to stare blankly into the darkness, even as Juliet was pulled from his grasp, even as he was herded after. And he probably would have stayed in this state for a good long while had he not been snapped out by what was probably the only sound capable of reaching him at that moment. Juliet's shriek, as the man holding her up- practically carrying her- snapped her slim finger with ease. He stared at Shawn as he did it, and said in a hoarse voice,"Do what I say, or I'll break another."

The psychic nodded, still slightly dazed, and the man continued.

"Get in the van." Shawn blinked as he finally started paying attention to his surroundings. He was standing in a long, round, and absolutely freezing tunnel. There were a wide variety of cars parked along the edge, but the only one running was a plain white van with the back doors flung open. He looked back at Juliet, noticing for the first time that she was shaking violently.

"Alright, I'm going. Calm down." He shoved a pile of blankets out of the way to make room, sitting down just in time to catch Jules as she was shoved in behind him. The doors slammed shut and they were left in almost complete darkness.

"Sh-Shawn…"

"Hey, Jules. It's ok, c'mere." He groped around for one of the thick blankets, wrapping it around her trembling shoulders when he located it.

The vehicle lurched and started off at a ridiculous speed, taking them god knows where.

"Shawn, th-they shot him. They shot Carlton." Her voice was little more than a mumble, and Shawn hoped it was shock or cold that was affecting her, and not the poison. He needed something he could deal with.

"I know, sweetheart. But I'm sure Lassie's fine. He probably fought that other guy off and is going to get help right now." As much as he hated lying to her, right now was not the moment for her to hear his opinions on the Detective's fate.

"Yeah… H-he's going to be fine…"

And then she was sobbing, Shawn pulling her against his chest as she cried. The van slowly traveled further and further away from the building that the police were frantically searching, bringing them farther from any hope of rescue with each passing bump in the road. Eventually the humming of the motor stopped, replaced by the gentle lapping of waves, but neither passenger noticed. They were both sound asleep, tangled in each other's arms and oblivious, for one quiet moment, to the peril that was slowly overtaking them.

Ok, so a quick note, that'll help us both. Next time, if you think i've been taking a _bit_ too much time, send me a review or a PM. Feedback tends to snap me out of most cases of writers block better than anything else. Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me! Constructive criticism/suggestions are all welcome.

StarsInTheRiver


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